The Boys are back in town (sorry…I had to. I’m going mad with isolation…)! Writer Garth Ennis and artists Darick Robertson (doing covers) and the incomparable Russ Braun return to the satirical, perverse, hilarious, seedy, ultra-violent world of Billy Butcher, Wee Hughie, and the rest of the Boys, in The Boys: Dear Becky. And they haven’t missed a single step. A highly-anticipated title for yours truly, I had an ache to return to this series after Jimmy’s Bastards had wrapped up (the same high-concept satirical deconstruction…but with James Bond in lieu of superheroes).
Here, we’re thrust back into the life of Hugh Campbell, the seemingly last survivor of the titular Boys, the government agency that monitors supes. He’s living a quiet life in Scotland with Annie, having spent the better part of a decade traveling. Opening while he’s catching up with his buddy Bobbi (nee Bobby), we see how closely the real world has melded with the fictional (debates about being “woke”; half-hearted threats by a bartender joking about giving them corona; Bobbi’s continued joshing of Hughie using dead-names and wrong pronouns), the story then goes back about twenty years, after a diary belonging to Becky Butcher — with additional writing by Billy himself — shows up in Hughie’s mail.
And here is where we jump feet first into the dirty business. Reintroducing ourselves to the Boys, we find them in a bathroom, having abducted a ten-year-old boy, and using a razor to slice out his tongue. It’s a hard line they’ve crossed, but once the kid turns to Billy and angrily shouts “THYATHAM!”, and the anger with which this kid stares daggers is at once terrifying and pitiful. It’s a credit to Braun that he’s able to elicit such emotions from a single still image; that and Billy’s face, looking at this pathetic Shazam-knockoff, describing how for a brief second he just sees a ten-year-old, and just how foresaken he is with the work he does already…but then that moment passes. We’re getting into the fabled Mallory-era of the Boys, with the gang at the height of their abilities, and running like clockwork.
While Dear Becky will explore the ramifications of Hughie’s earlier work (and who knows? He might return to it. There are still a few active supes operating in this world), the voyages back into the past are a literal bloody good time. They haven’t missed a step, and if the following issues are as strong, then you shouldn’t miss an issue. It’s like it never ended. 5/5 Good ol’ Beezers.
-J.L. Caraballo
“Alter Boi” Frank Simonian @scarletdadspidrBIRDS OF PREY #1 – DC Comics (Black Label)
DC’s Black Label titles have gone out to tell stories in its own universe with a somewhat more mature or adult atmosphere. Brian Azzarello is a favorite of mine personally, and his writing of Birds of Prey on the Black Label, did not disappoint.
The book collectively is well put together. Pencils by Emanuela Lupacchino fill out the panels nicely and progress the script with ease. The art is stellar and is matched with inks by Ray McCarthy that contain the pencils by Lupacchino. Colors by Trish Mulvihill and John Kalisz electrify the art and script. It is refreshing for all these elements to coincide with each other. Everything just flowed in this issue. This issue was a little slow in pacing as where the story is going, but that felt entirely intentional as this was the first issue and really laid out the introduction to the series.
DC Black Label Birds of Prey is with a familiar team, but in the early stages of meeting and banding together against a mutual cause. Harley Quinn is fresh out of the Suicide Squad, and away from Amanda Waller’s grasp. Harley is also trying to find herself post-Joker and their relationship. Her inner-search finds her literally in the arms of the Huntress. Following a team-up with the other Birds, Quinn must prove that she fits into the group and their connection with a case dealing with the criminal underground of Gotham City. While there is plenty of action within this issue, where the story heads is the return factor for this series. 3.5/5 Bibles.
You read that Preacher comic? If you have, I bet you got a story about it. It’s one of those where sometimes the story you read is only the beginning, the real interesting part is what the story does to you, how it takes root and changes you in ways you don’t even fully realize for years.
The original Garth Ennis/Steve Dillon series launched in 1995, a critical juncture for the still quite young Vertigo banner when DC had just made the commendable call to allow Neil Gaiman to lay his Sandman series to rest at the natural conclusion of his story right when old Grant Morrison was accelerating his insane metafictional narrative The Invisibles out into interdimensional space and beyond. As it careened toward the end of the century, Vertigo was only a couple years old but already well defined and beloved by fans as a place where comics really weren’t for kids anymore, and readers could get their hands on tales boiling over with more sex and violence and drug abuse and profanity than could be found in most R-rated movies of the day. Questionable life decisions on every page. For mature readers only. Superman would not be saving any cats from trees in here, but John Constantine was a devout and regularly practicing bisexual whose greatest nemesis was his interminable smoking habit putting him into an early grave unless he could outsmart the devil.
Into this fog, an Irishman and a Brit gave explosive birth to the most Vertigo Vertigo comic that perhaps ever was. Transgressive, shocking, filthy, and gratuitously hyperviolent, it told the story of a thirty-year-old preacher from Texas who gets possessed by the forbidden love child of an angel and a demon, which gives him a voice that compels anyone within earshot to do his bidding, so he decides to go track down God and hold him accountable for famine and cancer and earthquakes and dead babies and all the rest. His companions are his gun-toting no-bullshit ex-girlfriend and a 117-year-old Irish vampire. There was nothing like it on the stands. Hasn’t been since. And right here is where I confess that I’m not one of those diehards.
Preacher landed right at that jettison point where I moved out of my parents’ house and started finding my own way, still picked up a few back issues from time to time but quit buying new comics every week. My friends, the ones who bought Preacher every month it was released, they’re still wild for the series with scary eyes, rabid about it in that way you can only be when you love something so much it makes your stomach hurt just waiting for the next installment, in a way that people who sit down and read an entire trade paperback in one sitting years later will never be able to fathom. So, I’m not on those folks’ level; let’s just get that out of the way. But when I did sit down years later to read the trade paperbacks in one sitting, I loved it so much I started trying to handle myself around people more the way Jesse Custer did. I quit drinking Shiner Bock and began a passionate romance with Lone Star beer that has lasted to this day and never shall we part.
When I heard that Elijah Wood got the part of Frodo Baggins by climbing up in a tree one day, filming himself reciting Tolkien dialogue, and mailing that off to Peter Jackson, I pounded a couple shots of Jack and a few Stars, put on an eyepatch, and filmed myself with my giant tank early 2000s cell phone talking about how a man was only worth how well he kept his word to his friends and that John Wayne was the greatest damn cowboy who ever lived, and by the way, Fuck communism, Pilgrim. All these years later, when AMC announced that Dominic Cooper was cast as Jesse, a little part of me died, even though of course I had no acting experience or industry connections. I knew how to drink Lone Star in Texas and not to take bullshit from anyone, by God. That was enough.
The weird thing that Sam Catlin & Seth Rogen, huge fans of the comic themselves, did with their televisual adaptation, is that they took the seventh volume of a nine-volume series and crammed that arc into one scene from #1 of the comic book, and then turned that into a ten-episode basically prequel, so that all the madmen who loved the series were so furious about it not being anywhere close to a beat-for-beat adaptation, they had all gone snarling into the hills by the time the jaw-dropping eighth episode landed, adapting the The Saint of Killers spinoff mini-series to absolutely staggering perfection.
He finally.. preaches.
I’ve never seen the numbers, but I feel like this show never figured out how to find its natural audience. It was so horrifying and profane, most random people just tuning in were turned off, but its story beats were at first so different, it enraged the built-in fan base. But over time, it became very obvious that the show was actually heading to the same place as the hallowed series, it was just going to figure out how to get there all by itself.
And but I tell you what, three weeks ago — the first time I caught a little mention of the Alamo up in God’s RV — I said to myself, “Ah, hell,” and sure enough had to power through the entire nine volumes as fast as I could to make it all the way through before the series finale Sunday night. It had been maybe 15 years since my last pass, and I truly forgot some of the moments that they lifted verbatim from the source material. Most of the stuff that got jettisoned, like Si the serial killer or the San Francisco sex detectives, I really didn’t miss, but I almost forgot about the raid on Jesus de Sade’s place and how the New Orleans vampire coven plot was from a Cassidy one-shot, or even major stuff like Jesse falling out of the plane. The Jody/TC plot escalation in Season Three hit me as hard as the unforgettable Volume 2 of the series. Jeremy Childs as Jody was as menacing an antagonist as I can recall seeing on the small screen.
If you call me fucking Santa ONE MORE TIME!
I tuned into the final season premiere with high hopes and was immediately rewarded with Mark Harelik as God, channeling Cecil B. DeMille Biblical glory and wrath. While this series has taken some liberties with the throughline of Ennis & Dillon’s original effort, it’s always kept its fist wrapped around the original’s still-beating heart and channeled the tone of everything they accomplished. It’s loud and brash and stupid and far too violent and cool and ugly and hilarious and the saddest damn thing, all within the space of five minutes and one too many jump cuts. You could argue that I did the television show a disservice because I cracked open my first Star of the evening and read Preacher #66 right before turning on the finale, so I had that original perfect glorious ending right there in the front of my head, which ought to be the kiss of death for any one adapter who thinks they can improve on the original. And you know what? You ought to go ahead and watch the finale first. I’m going to tell you my favorite things about it that Sam Catlin and friends made up all on their own but that threw me back and forth my living room, reeling with vertigo:
-The look in Cassidy’s eyes when he told Tulip that if she did that again, he would kill her. From his opening scene in the pilot on that plane, Joe Gilgun has 100% brought to life one of the most beloved supporting characters of all time with more rougish charm and wit and depravity than anyone ever had the right to expect off the page. And I adore Ruth Negga as Tulip. These two have done so much heavy lifting throughout the series, but never more than this season.
Which tracksuit do I wear today?
–Jesus Christ vs. Adolf Hitler. A knockdown dragout to the death. There are several incredible, incredible fights in this episode choreographed by some deranged genius and depicted through riveting split-screen by Catlin, but we keep cutting back to this fight for at least the first half of the entire damn episode, and it is the funniest and most ridiculous and wonderful thing. When Jesus suddenly revealed his ability to fly in order to bodyslam Hitler was when I started hollering out into the night.
–Tyson Ritter in general, now and forever, Amen. And purists be damned, but this show took a really pretty cheap joke that only at all landed because it was so deeply offensive (“Hey kids, Jesus’s many-times-great-grandson is the result of 27 generations of inbreeding and he’s reeeeeeeally retarded. And he throws his own poop!”) and crafted a character remaining true to this set-up but somehow engendering profound empathy and just resonating with pathos. God, just the thought of his face actually gets me choked up now. How did they do that? What they accomplished with Humperdoo over the course of this series is actually an entire essay for another time and was a stunning deal, but then when Ritter suddenly started pulling double-duty and showed up as actual Jesus Christ himself earlier this season, it was, murder me, a revelation.
5 Bibles?!
-Okay, really, all the supporting characters. Julie Ann Emery’s Featherstone is a distinct improvement upon the somewhat flat original, and Ian Colletti plays Eugene “Arseface” Root with much more heart than the comic-book version was ever given, a guy whose major distinguishing characteristic was that whacked-out phonetic dialogue Ennis quit captioning in the back-end, there. And Pip Torrens does as much for Herr Starr as Gilgun does for Cassidy. And that last shot of Graham McTavish was more instantly iconic and devastating than anything that the Home Box Office managed in the month of May. You know you were thinking it. The entire bench just knocking it out of the park all the way down the line. I know there are many many fans of the comic who just hate the show, and they’re certainly entitled to their opinion, but they gave up too early before it found its legs in the second season. All of the ensemble character work is an absolute slam-dunk and profoundly in the spirit of the source material.
–God at The Alamo. As much as I love the original series, it always felt a bit off how much the last arc suddenly swerves over into Jesse vs. Cassidy for the heart of Tulip. I prefer the show’s take on that dynamic: Jesse just shrugging off the affair at the top of last week’s episode and then back to business. Jesse sitting down with God here — instead of Cassidy having the last word with him — is a more traditionally satisfying resolution to the entire long arc of the show than even what Ennis & Dillon managed. I always suspected that that was sort of the point, a bait-and-switch away from the prototypical protagonist/antagonist conflict resolution, but this one sits better with me.
The only way to END this.
–Sam Catlin’s writing and direction. Going back through and reading the original with eyes that are fifteen years better at picking out the nuances of facial expressions and body language and panel-staging substantially increased the already massive respect I had for Steve Dillon. No one else in the world could have made Preacher the comic what it was and brought Ennis’s conversations, allllllll those conversations about the measure of a good man and the importance of honesty in true love and friendship and What America Means and all that, oh God I just realized, preaching. But jumping mediums necessitated adding more freneticism and mayhem into the mix, and from the very beginning, Catlin (who, remember, co-wrote “Fly,” one of Breaking Bad’s finest episodes) did amazing work carving out a visual language that’s unique unto itself while still remaining true to what Ennis & Dillon created twenty-five years ago, three unlikely companions who went screaming down the highway to achieve the absurd impossible and left us all choking in their dust, laughing and scarred and grateful for the experience, the adventure, it was the time of the preacher and it was a hell of a vision.
Confession time: I love The Boys. Garth Ennis‘ and Darick Robertson‘s expansive, subversive work is one of my favorite comic series ever, and I ran through the entire series twice, each time noticing little bits and references I’d missed the first time around, and grew continually impressed with the emotional beats and character growth. One of my favorite issues concerns Hughie simply walking a lost dog home. The ability to allow moments to breathe and grow at a natural pace was paramount in allowing the reader to be fully invested.
All of this on top of the copious –and sometimes hilarious– amount of sex, drugs, ultra-violence, and general excessive depravity makes it a perverse thrill. But to adapt all of that, successfully, without losing any of the edge that makes it such a unique work? We’ll have to see what producers Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, and Erick Kripke have to bring…
And it’s as close as it’s likely to get to a pitch-perfect adaptation; where the show deviates from the source material (certain plot-points occur much sooner, or are jettisoned completely; certain relationships are less concretely developed; and, curiously, one character is dropped completely and replaced with a series original). But the tone is the key here, and it is effectively translated. Set in a version of the real world where superheroes exist, we’re introduced first to Annie January/Starlight (Erin Moriarty), a small-town superhero from Des Moines, Iowa, as she auditions for an open spot on the Seven, the highest-profile, and most profitable, superhero group in the world. Shown around by the Deep (Chace Crawford), she’s full of excitement, nerves, and wonder…right before she’s full of the Deep.
Right off the bat, the series gets right into one of the comic’s most disturbing and creepy sequences (which, even with the omission of two other male characters, as in the comics, is still disturbing), handling it –and the emotional aftermath– rather deftly. Following that, we’re introduced to Hughie (Jack Quaid) and his girlfriend Robin (Jess Salgueiro), making the sort of well-worn small-talk that all couples make, the ribbing and jokes…right before she’s exploded by a full-speed-running A-Train (Jessie T. Usher Jr.). Some time after Robin’s death, Hughie turns down a settlement offer in exchange for signing an NDA, and is later confronted by Billy Butcher (Karl Urban), who is looking to re-form the eponymous government agency, tasked with keeping tabs on the supes, and keeping them in line.
Cockney-Ray Vision
The show looks amazing, having the scale and feel of feature-film superhero tales, while pushing the boundaries in regard to just how much violence and nudity can fit on a television screen. And that’s saying a lot. The set pieces are similarly well-shot and composed, and edited in such a way that we, the audience, can actually understand what’s happening! What a novel concept! The comedy is top-notch too (i.e. the Deep’s botched attempt to rescue a dolphin from an aquarium), while also running considerably dark –as with Homelander (Anthony Starr) and Queen Mauve’s (Dominique McElligott) wildly incompetent handling of an airline hijacking.
But the key is the cast. Getting the Boys together is fun and all, as they each get most of an episode to show off their particular skill set, but their are some surprisingly touching moments throughout the series. Erin Moriarty, right off the bat, is stealing the show. While Annie is naive, has faith (as in religion), and seems innocent in comparison to her fellow superheroes, she’s never once shown as stupid, gullible, or anything less than strong. Whereas the comics showed her develop in a similar fashion where she grows into her own agency and self-confidence, there were often times where she sometimes veered into being a caricature. Here, that’s totally avoided, and it’s a testament to Moriarty’s skill.
Blooty Cunts.
While Jack Quaid is no Simon Pegg (on whom the original Hughie is based…and who gets to play Hughie’s dad here), he still manages to get across the “what-the-fuck-am-I-doing?” doubt and inexperience that initially drives the character. Seeing the two of them play off each other is great, as their chemistry is genuine. Urban plays Butcher about as much as I was expecting: a charming bloke with danger in his smile, and a swagger to his step, who will never have to worry about anyone messing with him.
The show works to soften some of the harshness of the comic, which makes these moments work so much better. The supes aren’t as cartoonishly vile as in the comic, which adds some much-needed depth to them (i.e. Haley Joel Osmont‘s washed up mind-reader Mesmer, helping out the Boys just for the chance of supervised visitation with his daughter), and makes their explosions of violence hit that much harder. The utilization of social media, and how superheroes would navigate that world, likewise play interesting roles, as does the near-fetishistic oversaturation of superheroes in nearly every facet of daily life.
Everyone loves a great Zack Snyder movie!
Amazon Prime’s already promised a second season, and I for one can’t wait. As huge a fan of the comic as I am, I am just as big a fan of the show (as is my fiance, who had heretofore known of The Boys only through and my copies laying around). Between this, and Doom Patrol, superhero streaming series have some impressive additions to what would otherwise be a crowded field. 4/5 Bibles.
The uncensored trailer for the anticipated Amazon Original series The Boys was revealed today on Reddit by Garth Ennis, writer and co-creator of the original comic book series. The subversive superhero series will debut July 26 exclusively on Amazon Prime Video in more than 200 countries and territories. The Boys will make its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival Monday, April 29.
The Boys is a fun and irreverent take on what happens when superheroes -– who are as popular as celebrities, as influential as politicians and as revered as Gods -– abuse their superpowers rather than use them for good. It’s the powerless against the super powerful as The Boys embark on a heroic quest to expose the truth about The Seven, and Vought -– the multi-billion dollar conglomerate that manages these superheroes and covers up all of their dirty secrets. The Boys are Hughie (Jack Quaid, The Hunger Games), Billy Butcher (Karl Urban, Star Trek), Mother’s Milk (Laz Alonso, Detroit), Frenchie (Tomer Capon, Hostages), and The Female (Karen Fukuhara, Suicide Squad). Simon Pegg (Mission: Impossible: Fallout) guest stars as Hughie’s father.
The Supes of The Seven are led by Homelander (Antony Starr, Banshee) who is joined by Starlight (Erin Moriarty, Captain Fantastic), Queen Maeve (Dominique McElligott, House of Cards), A-Train (Jessie T. Usher, Independence Day: Resurgence), The Deep (Chace Crawford, Gossip Girl) and Black Noir (Nathan Mitchell, Supernatural).
Academy Award nominee Elisabeth Shue (Leaving Las Vegas) stars as Madelyn Stillwell, Vought’s Senior VP of Hero Management.
Based on The New York Times best-selling comic by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson, The Boys was developed by showrunner Eric Kripke (Supernatural), who also serves as writer, executive producer and directed the season finale. Joining Kripke as executive producers are Point Grey Pictures’ Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg and James Weaver (all from Preacher), Original Film’s Neal H. Moritz (“Prison Break”), Pavun Shetty (New Girl) and Ori Marmur (Preacher), as well as Ken Levin and Jason Netter. Ennis and Robertson also co-executive produce. The pilot episode was directed by Dan Trachtenberg (10 Cloverfield Lane).
The eight-episode Amazon Prime Video original series is co-produced by Amazon Studios and Sony Pictures Television Studios with Point Grey Pictures, Kripke Enterprises and Original Film.
SANDMAN UNIVERSE – DC Comics“Great Rao” Bass @kidtimebomb
Vertigo has a special place in the hearts of a lot of people who grew up reading comics in the Nineties. Karen Berger and Shelly Bond curated a ridiculous run of titles for mature readers based on the sensibilities of Alan Moore’s SWAMP THING, Grant Morrison’s DOOM PATROL, and Neil Gaiman’s SANDMAN that yielded a string of classics down through the years including, but not limited to, HELLBLAZER, THE INVISIBLES, TRANSMETROPOLITAN, PREACHER, 100 BULLETS, Y THE LAST MAN, FABLES, SCALPED, and HO– USE OF MYSTERY.
However, with the exit of both founding editors, the line has been on life-support these past few years, still actually publishing titles but with nowhere near the acclaim or sales that it’s known in years past (and the sales were never that dynamite to begin with; with Vertigo, it’s always been more about critical praise). And but lately here, Gerard Way’s Young Animal pop-up imprint has been absolutely scratching the itch that many old-school fans had been experiencing, with most of the current Vertigo staff engaged with those titles. So, it was a small surprise that DC announced that they were bringing back an entire line of comics set in the Sandman universe: THE DREAMING, THE BOOKS OF MAGIC, HO– USE OF WHISPERS, and LUCIFER. Fortunately, Neil Gaiman is on-board, a wise move, as attempting this situation without him is a bad idea, both creatively and optically. However, everyone’s favorite master storyteller isn’t actually scripting any of the four titles; he seems to be more serving as more a sort of editor-in-chief or showrunner, setting up the general premise and then letting hand-picked creatives loose to do their best work. He probably wisely elects not to lean on former talent like Mike Carey, Garth Ennis, or Peter Milligan, but instead enlists a new generation of writers and artists, only a very few of whom I’d even heard of before. THE SANDMAN UNIVERSE #1 is the overture that starts spinning the threads of the four new titles, and it does a fine job of whetting readers’ appetites for the line as a whole while teasing out a focused linear narrative that’s engaging all on its own.
We open in The Dreaming with a significant portion of the beloved supporting cast that Gaiman first created in SANDMAN thirty years ago. There are several old favorite bits that do an effective job of pushing readers’ nostalgia buttons: Lucien’s grandiose meta-narration, Cain murdering Abel, Matthew taking the piss out of his cohorts. And the sigil-holding. That was the one that punched me in the gut from out of nowhere. Young Animal has definitely been checking off most of the Vertigo boxes in my heart, but nothing can do it for you like the original. The new conflict is that there’s a great crack in the firmament of The Dreaming, Daniel is M.I.A. like any good Dream of the Endless is wont to be, and so our boy Matthew the Raven has to go looking for him. This is the framing sequence through which we’ll catch glimpses of our new titles. And this whole deal is basically an anthology sampler, so I’m just going to power through as quick as I can to keep this word-count as low as possible for our dear Brother Sgt. Moody.
First up is THE DREAMING, which it looks like will be featuring Dora, an amnesiac monstress who Matthew says showed up right before “the changeover,” meaning the end of Gaiman’s original run, though I can’t tell if that’s for real and I don’t remember her or it’s a retcon and she’s a new character. She’s compelling enough either way. I presume THE DREAMING is going to be about her and probably Matthew, Lucien, Merv, and friends dealing with what’s going down at the homefront while Daniel remains out of pocket. Simon Spurrier and Bilquis Evely appear more than capable of entertaining us with this set-up. I’m probably most onboard with this title of the four. (Quick note on creator credits: everyone just gets a lump credit at the end without assignation and the individual one-page ads for the books at the end don’t have creative listed, which seems silly, so there’s a real chance that I might be mis-attributing something somewhere, but I tried.)
Next, we have THE BOOKS OF MAGIC, starring the original bespectacled boy wizard. I never hit the original monthly series after Gaiman’s mini so have minimal nostalgic connection to young Master Hunter. We get just a taste of what’s going on here, but Kat Howard’s script and Tom Fowler’s expressive art in particular offer an intriguing glimpse of the tone of this story about a secret boy wizard attending a school where at least one instructor seems like a formidable antagonist. I could care less about Tim Hunter, really, but this short effectively sold me on giving the book a shot, so well done. Mission accomplished.
HO– USE OF WHISPERS is the title that seems like it’s got the blankest slate, not directly based on any titles that hvae come before. Nalo Hopkinson and Dominike Stanton conjure a tale of three sisters and the oldest’s girlfriend who it looks like will have some doings with the local voodoo goddess type who operates out of the swamp around New Orleans. I liked the tone of the character interactions just fine, but I don’t know how you can have seven pages of New Orleans without one horn in a single panel. Jazz, man! There should have been a second line marching in the background and notes in the air on every page. Other than that, compelling enough.
The last book, LUCIFER, is probably the most relatively mainstream, the first volume alone having already been published for 75 issues by Mike Carey & Peter Gross, as well as having a television adaptation that just finished up its fourth season on Fox. It looks like Dan Watters and Max & Sebastian Fiumara have a circle-is-now-complete set-up here with Lucifer now finding himself a father with a son in need of a mother and determined to do better by his boy than God Almighty did by him.
Then, we finish back up in The Dreaming with a cliffhanger that sets a lovely, ominous tone for the overarching story. Overall, this is an enjoyable taste of what’s to come. A few different flavors to try out. When this whole deal was announced, I figured I’d pick up this first issue, but none of the main titles seemed compelling to me based on creative and premise alone. Now, I’ll definitely pick up the first issues of THE DREAMING and BOOKS OF MAGIC. And honestly, with the releases staggered out, I could see myself possibly giving the other two a shot, though I might wait to hit them in trade as well, a time-honored method of Vertigo consumption nearly as old as the line itself. If, like me, you heard that Gaiman was bringing back the line but weren’t really intrigued by the talent attached, maybe pay your five dollars right here, dip your toe back in the rising tide of The Dreaming, feel that shiver up your spine reminding you who you used to be once upon a time, and let someone you never met whisper a story into your ear. 4/5 I Stand In Your Gallery And Call You.
-Rob Bass
“Cardinal” Gary Brooks @ facebook.com/gary.brooksHAL JORDAN AND THE GREEN LANTERN CORPS #50 – DC Comics
Well, that was a fun read! I just binge read the last five issues of Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps so I could write this review, and it was pretty damn satisfying. There’s something to be said for reading a story arc from start to finish in a matter of 48 hours. That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed this particular story arc because it felt like something new and old at the same time. Sure, like every GL story they get their collective butts kicked at the beginning then somehow, some way they literally will themselves to win usually by some type of Hail Mary play that almost gets them all killed, and almost always involves Hal going solo on a life or death mission that no one thinks will work, but they do it anyway because they will follow John Stewart into any fire.
But, what set this story apart for me was that it wraps up a long running story arc that’s been going on for years and it feels as though we’ve gotten a little closure. Revenge/redemption/resolution! What more is needed? The battle between the Green Lantern Corps, and the Dark-stars, and Robert Vendetti’s epic run finally come to a climactic end and we finally get to see Tamar-Tu get what he deserves…way to go out on tops guy! Great storytelling and fantastic artwork! 4/5 Power Rings (the whole arc a 4.5/5).
-Gary Brooks
“Father” #HeelSean Farrell @IAMSCFFANTASTIC FOUR #1 – Marvel Comics
Spoiler #1: I enjoyed the issue by Dan Slott (writing), and Sara Pichelli (art). Dan has captured their voices, knows his history and is one hell of a storyteller. His Surfer book with The Allred’s alone made me excited that he’s the new writer of FF, not to take away from his now historic decade-ish long run on Amazing Spider-Man (which he stuck the landing on folks, like a perfect 10.0!)! Pichelli’s art is always a joy on any book that I’m reading. Everything looks wonderful, as anticipated! Her previous stints on Spider-Man and Guardians reassure me that she had a strong handle on NYC and the cosmos setting I’m anticipating to appear in this appear!
Spoiler #2: The FF “technically” are not in the first issue. Which, in the long run, makes sense to me, sorta…..
*** notice *** This review isn’t going to rehash the history of the FF, nor go into the behind the scenes explanations as to why the First Family of the Marvel Universe has been MIA since the end of Secret Wars in January of 2016. (It’s not important to the book itself.) I leave the bean counting to the bean counters and the office politics to the suits and ties. That’s front office stuff. We’re here for the product, not the policies.
*** end notice ***
So the MU has been without the FF for a little more than two years. Yet, they really haven’t been gone. Human Torch was with the Inhumans, while The Thing was the Guardians of the Galaxy for a good while too. Both Ben & Johnny recently reunited for the Chip Zdarsky run of Marvel’s Two-In-One series as they (along with Dr Doom) search for Reed & Sue in the Multiverse.
Spoiler #3: in preparation for this series return, I read all 8 issues before diving into FF #1. Completely unnecessary. Fun books, but uh, yeah. Not really relevant to the first issue of this series. The first issue of FF doesn’t even touch that both Ben and Johnny have been losing their powers as of late and think it’s because of their connection to Sue & Reed being severed for so long.
Spoiler #4: Man, everyone is proposing to everyone these days! Bat books, X-books, now the FF?!? I’m sure most of you have had one of the major story spoilers spoiled already about Ben & Alicia. I’m happy for the couple, but I’m guessing that Johnny has completely moved on from his past romance with Alicia ? I mean sure, she was really a Skrull named Lyja and this all happened back in the 1987 (FF #300) — but this time around, Yancy Street’s finest is finally getting the girl. It’s been a long time coming since (1962!) FF #8!
But the FF aren’t in this issue. Not together anyways. Which, in the long run? It’s fine. More and more folks binge read (I read 8 issues before I got to this one issue), or read via Marvel Unlimited or line as they “wait for the trades”. I mean we waited THIS long, what’s a few more weeks? So sure, it would’ve been nice to see the family on the same page, with the warm hugs and tears of joy. But for pacing and set up? It makes sense. There’s even a one page gag by Slott and the always entertaining Skottie Young about this. Oh yeah, There’s also a backup story about Doom and his current wearsabouts drawn by Simone Bianchi!
So, is this a fantastic first issue? A mighty return in the mighty Marvel tradition? I honestly give it 4 Bibles because it is a strong issue, but it just missed the mark due to the FF themselves not being in the issue. Cameos by Jen Walters & Wyatt Wingfoot did push this book from a 3 to a 4, however.
I did not like this. Throughout the entirety of my reading Cosmic Ghost Rider #1, I kept getting the feeling of how comics were in the early-to-mid-1990s: SO KEEEEEEWWWWWL, MAN! THEY’S SO EXTREEEEEEME! THE DARKER THE BETTER! I WANT MY COMICS SO DARK THE ART IS JUST A BLACK PIECE OF PAPPPEEERRRRRRR!!! That shit isn’t for me, though. If you like it, hey, all power to you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this. But twice while reading this issue I turned back to the cover page to make sure that yes, I am indeed reading the right comic for review, the characters therein are in fact the ones I think they are, and no, I’m not just drunkenly hallucinating a mishmash of whatever comics I currently own.
Even with the 2-page long breather catching the reader up to how, and why, Frank Castle is currently in Valhalla, after being Thanos’ black right hand, after being the herald of Galactus, after being killed, after….man, I got tired just writing that…I was out for a loop. Look, last I checked in the pages of the monthly Punisher comics, Frank had stolen the War Machine armor and was fighting most of the Marvel heroes… that makes considerably more sense than anything I’d read in these pages. So…the Punisher is now the Ghost Rider, and he makes it his first mission to go back in time and kill Thanos. But he doesn’t? And instead kidnaps baby Thanos and rides with him around in his little space motorcycle? (Somewhere, DC Comics is salivating at the Lobo intellectual property theft…probably the only time “Lobo” and “intellectual” can be used in the same sentence).
One of these things is not like the other, no matter how damn hard they insist they are.
Donny Cates does decent work writing this title, throwing in a bunch of exposition while making Frank sound at least a bit like the Frank I know (primarily the Garth Ennis version of Frank). “But J.L., you magnificent son-of-a-bitch! The Punisher is SO COOL interacting with other Marvel heroes! It can’t all be Punisher MAX!” Yeah, I get it, but compare his crossover here with his interactions in Welcome Back, Frank. Or even in the last Secret Wars event, where the last act Frank undertakes, as the universe is exploding, is gunning down as many super-villains as he possibly can. The art by Dylan Burnett is okay…it kept reminding me of the first series of Spider-Gwen, and it’s great that Frank is still aging in real-time; but this just kept feeling so out-of-character from what I’m used to from the Punisher. The design would be great if it were not Frank Castle. I was constantly reminded of when Speedball was turned into Penance — and not in a good way.
“Well, J.L., man, it seems like you went into this title with expectations. So sorry it tried something new!” Yeah…I was expecting a Ghost Rider in my Ghost Rider comic, not Punisher as Ghost Rider in Valhalla with Thanos. Jeez, just writing all that again made me grimace and leaves a weird taste. I can suspend my disbelief as well as the next guy, but this is not for me. Instead I’ll just go crack open my Punisher MAX series for the 30th time. 2/5 Weird Space Motorcycles.
-J.L. Caraballo
“The Traveling Nerd” Lance Paul @lance_paulDEATH OF THE INHUMANS #1 – Marvel Comics
The issue starts off with a refresher on the origins of the Inhumans before finding out the Kree are calling all the Inhumans back and are willing to use bloody maneuvers to see it happen. They have already started killing thousands of Inhumans and carving “Join or Die” into their bodies by the beginning of the comic, with an Inhuman executioner named Vox leading the bloodletting!
Death of the Inhumans #1 begins by wasting named Inhuman characters within the first 10 pages and doesn’t stop until the end of the comic. You can tell that after the flop of the Inhuman comics, and the bomb that was the the Inhuman television show Marvel has decided, less Inhumans is a positive thing. The higher-ups have decided with the Fox merger that Mutants are back in the wheelhouse and we don’t need the “lesser” Inhuman characters anymore. The layout of the story in Death reflects this very tellingly. I’m totally okay with it. The story was enjoyable so much that it showed Donny Cates (Redneck) wasn’t messing around with the kid gloves. 4/5 X-Men Agree!
